The Lost Year of Harry Potter
by FairytalesOfForever
Summary: There was a year in Harry Potter's life that is all but forgotten. It was the year of his childhood when he had a true family. It was the year when he was nurtured, cared for, and loved. It was the year before the world turned upside down in a flash of green light. This is the lost year of Harry Potter.
1. Operation Fawn

**A/N: "You're gonna suffer, but you're gonna be happy about it." -Ron Weasley**

Eleven o'clock at night was the last time Sirius expected a silver stag to leap into his room and start talking.  
He'd been perched on the edge of his bed, not entirely awake and trying to figure out the best place on the wall for his new, massive poster of his motorbike. He had been moving it around with his wand for the past fifteen minutes, attempting to get it in the perfect position without much success. He could hear Remus downstairs, stowing away all of his things; he'd reluctantly accepted Sirius' offer to crash on his couch for the evening. Just when Sirius thought he might've found the best spot for the poster, however, a shining Patronus leaped through his window.

Sirius jumped back in surprise, nearly fell off the bed, smacked his head on the wall, and cursed colorfully. The poster drifted to the ground. Sirius rubbed the back of his head ruefully, glaring at the offending wall. Then the Patronus spoke, in the voice of a somewhat terrified James Potter.

"Padfoot—initiate Operation Fawn! Lils chose to do it here, we've got a midwife Apparating over, and I've got something really important to tell you. Tell Remus Lily won't let him in if he doesn't bring 'that pillow'."

It took all of three words to snap Sirius into full focus: _initiate Operation Fawn!_

"Merlin, Prongs," he muttered, "just use the bloody mirrors…"

On the inside, however, he could barely contain his excitement. Right now—at this very moment—the heir to their troublemaking glory was preparing to enter the world!

He flung open his bedroom door, grabbing one of many leather jackets that hung on the back of it, and raced down the stairs, leaping past the bottom three and landing with a _thud_.  
"Moony!" he exclaimed. "Moony!"

Remus, who, though holding a book, appeared to be asleep, blinked and looked up with bleary blue eyes. "Wha—?"

"_Initiate Operation Fawn!_"

Remus' brow furrowed for a moment, then his eyes cleared. "Operation—_oh._ Now?"  
"Yeah, Prongs just sent a Patronus message!" Sirius felt as if this excitement would much better fit his canine form, seeing as that way he had some outlet for it (namely, running around in circles and wagging his tail like mad).

"A Patronus message?" Remus threw the blanket off of his legs and set his book down on the couch. "Those were supposed to be for Order business, you have those mirrors—"

Despite the fact that just moments ago he'd been thinking the same thing, Sirius cried, "Oh, who cares, Moony? Do you want to meet Prongs 2.0 or not?"  
"Right," said Remus with a slightly amused smile. He got up, flicked his wand to tidy the couch, then started gathering various belongings into the pockets of a worn traveling cloak.

Maybe the slight panic in James' voice was getting to him, but Sirius could not seem to remember where anything was, or what he needed to find, for that matter. He was so excited and slightly terrified that he couldn't think straight.  
"Do I need my toothbrush? Or, wait, James' toothbrush? What about the baby's—oh, wait, it won't have teeth," he muttered to himself, digging through a chest by the stairs.  
"Butterbeer? Nah. Firewhiskey? Probably. Potions? Oh, I probably need pants, and then, if you cover—"

He swept a hand nervously through his long hair and heard Remus laugh. He looked up; Remus was leaning against the doorframe with one eyebrow raised. "You look like James when you do that," he chuckled. "So, are you ready or…?"

"Right," Sirius muttered. "Right." He pulled on a pair of black fingerless gloves, picked up his wand, and gave it a haphazard flick; objects from all over the room flew into the pockets of his jacket, pants, and robes.  
Remus, still smirking, flicked his own wand; his shabby traveling cloak leapt onto his shoulders. Sirius rushed over to join him, and the pair stepped out onto the front steps.  
"Nobody's looking around?" Remus asked. Sirius shook his head, practically quivering with impatience. "You've got the pillow, right?"

A look of sudden panic flitted onto Remus' face, then off just as fast. He drew his wand and muttered, "_Accio striped pillow!_"

Said pillow flew into his hand. Sirius gave him the thumbs-up. They both turned on the spot and Apparated into the warm summer night.

* * *

Sirius couldn't get up the pathway to James and Lily's cottage fast enough. They'd had to Apparate some distance away, since the house had recently been given extra protection, what with the Potters being members of the Order. This, however, meant that he and Remus had to walk, and Sirius was thoroughly impatient. He wondered giddily what he would be to the new baby—"Uncle Padfoot", maybe? He glanced over his shoulder to see if Remus was as excited as he was. He looked rather amused, but there was a light of anticipation in his tired eyes that didn't go unnoticed. Sirius turned his eyes back to the path. They had to be close. They had to be there.

_If we don't get inside that house soon, I might explode._  
Luckily, Sirius didn't have to explode; after what had to be several hours, they reached the door. Remus had barely lifted a hand to knock before James threw the door open and all but yanked them inside. Sirius pulled his best friend into a tight hug before throwing himself onto an overstuffed armchair, and Remus sat on the couch beside him.  
"Where's Peter?" Remus asked.  
"Here," James muttered, nodding to a chair behind him. Peter waved. James was pacing back and forth, practically wearing a path into the floor, his eyes darting around the room and then back to the door behind which his son was arriving.

"You all right, mate?" Sirius asked, trying for a relaxed smile.  
"He's been like this for almost an hour," Peter said.  
"Merlin," James muttered hoarsely. "Oh, Merlin's beard…" He kept running his hand through his hair, which by this point had become almost a nervous habit. He abruptly collapsed into a chair opposite Sirius. "I can't do this," he said, a note of panic in his voice. "I'm not ready to be a—a _dad!_ I'm going to make a bloody mess of it..._Merlin_…"  
Remus leaned forward and smiled at James. "Come on, Prongs, we always knew you'd be the first. You'll be great at this. Even Lily knows you will."  
Peter nodded.  
James buried his face in his hands and ran them through his hair again. "But we're fighting and—what did I do? We must've been crazy...bringing a kid into the world during this war...what if something happens to us? We're fighting with the Order, how am I supposed to raise a kid knowing that I could leave him and—"

"Hey, Prongs, _stop_," Sirius said, feeling he ought to speak up. "Gryffindor #6 basically has four dads for a reason. If anything happens…"

For a moment he felt as if his throat had closed. He swallowed and pushed past the stinging behind his eyes.  
"He's still got us, okay? But you're going to be an awesome dad. You'll get to raise your kid, and you'll be amazing at it."  
James looked up and took a deep breath with a great shudder. "I know you lot wouldn't let anything happen to him. It's just...I dunno. I love him already. I don't even know him and I know I'd die for him. Maybe that's what scares me."  
Remus slid over on the couch so that he could put a hand on James' shoulder. "You've got this, Prongs. We know you do, and so does Lily. We're making sure that your son has a better, safer world to grow up in—we all are."

Peter tugged absentmindedly on his left sleeve. "Moony's right," he said quickly.

"Right," James mumbled. He looked up sheepishly and pushed his glasses higher up on his nose, behind which Sirius spotted a suspicious shine in his hazel eyes. He walked over and perched on the arm of James' chair.  
"You get to be excited about this now, mate. This should be on the 'best moments of your life' list—right up there with the double goal we scored against Slytherin in that last match."  
James gave a soft chuckle. "I dunno, Pads, I think this ranks a few spots above Quidditch."  
All four laughed, slowly easing the tension of the moment. The soothing murmurs of the mediwitch floated through the door.

James glanced up at Sirius. "Sirius?"

"Yeah?"

"Could I talk to you alone for a minute?"

Sirius glanced at Remus for a moment to see if he knew what this was about. Remus said nothing, but he was wearing a knowing smile.

"Er...yeah, sure," Sirius replied, feeling slightly confused. He followed James into the next room—a little office/sitting room of sorts. He flopped into a chair beside his best friend and glanced inquiringly at him.  
"Well? What's up?"

"Well…" James took a deep breath. "Lily and I were thinking. About the war, and all that stuff I said earlier."  
"Come on, Prongs, didn't we say—"

"But that's my point!" James broke in hurriedly. "I—we—wanted to know if you'd be the godfather?"

Sirius felt as if he'd lost the ability to speak for the second time in the past half-hour. When he opened his mouth, he meant to say 'yes', but what came out was, "Come on, mate, don't make me cry, it'll ruin my reputation."  
James gave a slightly weak laugh. "So…?"  
"Yeah, of course I'll do it!" Sirius exclaimed. "I just never thought—I mean, Moony's always been the responsible one—"  
"But you're my best mate," James said. "I wouldn't want it to be anyone but you. And besides, Remus can't, really...what with his 'furry little problem' and all."

Sirius nodded, still feeling rather thunderstruck. Just then, the door flew open to reveal a beaming woman in lavender robes, her eyes twinkling with matronly excitement.  
"Mr. Potter," she said, "are you ready to meet your son?"


	2. Hello, Harry

**Short, I know, blah blah blah. I just didn't feel like this tender little scene worked being combined with others or lengthed. Enjoy!**

Gryffindors were known for their boldness and bravery, and if anyone deserved to wear their brilliant scarlet and gold, it was James Potter.  
However, he wasn't feeling very brave right now.  
He was shaking with a mixture of fear and anticipation that had charged him like a Shocking Spell. There was no way this could be real—but it was—so very real—

The smiling mediwitch placed a hand on the doorknob to the room where Lily was.  
"Is she okay?" James asked anxiously.  
The mediwitch's smile softened. "She's fine, and so is your son—a beautiful baby boy."  
She opened the door and James followed her, in a daze.

His eyes were drawn to Lily first. Her dark red hair was tied neatly back from her face, which, though exhausted and bearing a sheen of sweat, was glowing with happiness. James ran over to her and knelt next to the bed.  
"Hey, Lils, how you doing?"  
She smiled—a mix of fatigue and joy. "Well, frankly, most of it was awful, but…"  
She glanced down at the blanket-wrapped bundle in her arms. James' throat went dry.  
_Oh, Merlin. That's my son._  
He sat down on the edge of the bed and gently brushed a sweaty lock of red hair away from his wife's face.  
"Here," she said with a smile. "You want to hold him?"  
James opened his mouth but his throat wasn't working. He swallowed and tried again. "Yeah," he said hoarsely. In fact, he wanted that little bundle of blankets in his arms more than anything in the world.

The mediwitch gently picked up the little bundle and placed it in James' arms.  
"Harry, right?" she asked fondly.  
James met Lily's eye. "Yeah," he said.  
_That's perfect. _  
James looked down at Harry's little face and felt tears stinging his eyes and fogging up his glasses. The little baby boy had a fuzz of black hair that was already going every which way like his father's, but James' gaze was drawn to his eyes. They were just like Lily's—the same shape, the same brilliant, emerald green.  
He blinked rapidly to keep tears from sliding down his face.  
"Hi, Harry," he whispered. "I'm your dad. That beautiful lady over there—that's your mommy, see? You got her pretty eyes, Harry. And we're gonna take care of you. We'll get you your own little broomstick and I'll teach you about Quidditch. Your mommy's amazing, you'll see—she'll teach about magic, and potions, and she'll keep trying to make your hair stay in place, but it'll still be messy like mine. We're gonna fight to protect you from this war, okay? We won't let anyone hurt you."

Lily leaned over and kissed her son's forehead. He cooed curiously.  
"That's right, Harry," she said softly. "I'm your mama, sweet boy."  
"Don't worry," said James, in the same soft whisper, his breath brushing against his little son's baby-soft skin. "We're making a better world for you to grow up in..._Harry Potter._"


	3. A Tiny Person

**A/N: I'm enjoying this cuteness and the feels way too much. Never fear, however, angst is on its way...**

Remus wasn't sure how long he'd been sitting in the Potters' living room. It had been four days since the last full moon, and his mind was hazy, as he was still on the tail end of recovering. However, when the mediwitch bustled into the back room with James in tow, it wasn't hard to figure out what had happened. Sirius came bouncing out of the side room he and James had been in shortly after, his face nearly split with an endearingly canine grin.

"I take it he asked you?" said Remus with a small smile.

Sirius flopped down into a nearby chair and rummaged in his pockets before giving up the apparently pointless search. "Yeah," he said, still grinning. "So you knew? I still think you'd have been better."

"Come off it," said Remus, slightly more seriously. "I couldn't raise a child. You know that."

"But you've got the brains for it, the responsibility—"

"And lycanthropy," Remus sighed quietly. "You know there's no way, Padfoot. You'll be a great godfather."

Peter, who had been looking oddly nervous since they'd arrived, nodded hurriedly. "Even _I_ can see why Prongs picked you."

"Yeah, and that's saying a lot," Sirius snickered. Remus gave him a less-than-stern look of reproach.

"Ah, come on, I'm just joking," he said, never dropping his grin as he ruffled Peter's hair.

"Merlin, Wormtail, you're still about as tall as the average third year."

"Come on, lay off Wormtail for once," said Remus, shaking his head.

Just then, James poked his head out of the door. His eyes carried a suspicious shine on which none of his friends commented, especially since he was beaming. "You lot want to meet him?"

"Merlin's beard, yes!" Sirius exclaimed, leaping to his feet. Remus and Peter got up behind him.

When they all filed into the room, Lily was sitting on the bed, her red hair tied back and a smile on her noticeably tired face. James sat on the edge of the bed; Remus took the chair in the corner, Sirius perched on its arm, and Peter stood.

"C'mere, Padfoot," said James with a grin. "Want to hold your godson?"

Sirius opened his mouth to answer, then closed it, his eyes fixed on the blanket-wrapped bundle in Lily's arms. He then nodded mutely. Remus, prepared to wait his turn, smiled. He watched as James eased the baby into Sirius' arms. Sirius was blinking very fast, his gaze never leaving the tiny face of his best friend's son.

"What are you calling him?" Remus asked.

"Harry," Lily said fondly, watching Sirius and baby Harry. "Harry James Potter."

Remus grinned approvingly. "Good choice," he said. "I take it you didn't leave the naming up to James? Otherwise he'd be called something like Elvendork."

"Oh, come off it," said James, though he was grinning. "Well, Pads?"

"Merlin, he's a tiny you," said Sirius hoarsely. "But...he's got those Evans eyes."

"Many a poem was written about those eyes," Peter joked. "_Her eyes are as green as a fresh pickled toad..._"

"Shut up," James muttered without much force, watching Sirius and Harry. Lily gave a rather tired-sounding laugh. Remus edged closer to the chair Sirius sat in, leaning against the back of it. Sirius looked up at him unexpectedly.

"Well?" he asked. "D'you want to hold him?" He then cast a quick glance at James, who smiled, and yet it was suddenly much older-looking than his usual carefree grin.

Remus' eyes flitted to the opposite wall and he shrugged. "I—well—"

"Of course you do," came a voice from the bed. Remus glanced over to see Lily smiling at him. "Sirius, let him hold Harry."

Remus sank shakily onto the edge of the bed, flashing her an appreciative but nervous smile, and Sirius, more carefully than he had ever handled anything in his life, handed Harry to him. He'd expected to handle Harry as if he was made of glass, and yet the little baby boy's warm weight settled naturally into Remus' arms, curling against his chest.

"Merlin, Moony, you're not going to break him," Sirius laughed.

Despite Remus' nervousness, a shaky smile made its way onto his face. There was no doubt that this was James and Lily's son—he was a perfect blend of the both of them, green eyes and black hair and a little smile that was warm like his mother's and happy like his father's. This, this tiny, brand new human in Remus' arms, was a mix of two of the people he loved most in the world, and he suddenly knew—he just _knew_—that no matter what it took, no matter what he had to fight to protect him, he would.

"He's you," Remus said softly. "He's both of you. He's perfect."

Lily reached over and trailed her thumb along the side of Harry's face. "I certainly think so."

"All hail the fifth Marauder!" Peter announced.

Remus looked up at Lily. "Or maybe the sixth."


	4. What They Don't Know

**A/N: I don't know why I keep writing short chapters. Welp, the joy and cuteness had to end somewhere, friends. Time to make you drown in a pool of Peter guilt. Enjoy and please, ****_please _****review. I haven't really gotten any and I'd love to know what you think of the story!**

"What about you, Pete? You want to hold him?" James asked.  
Peter jerked his head up. He knew he was failing spectacularly to hide his twitchiness but hoped it would be overshadowed by the emotion of the moment. "Um, sure," he said hesitantly.  
Remus settled Harry's warm weight into his arms and Peter looked down at his face. It was as if someone had blended James and Lily together as seamlessly as the most talented of potioneers. An artist, maybe. But even as the little boy blinked open startlingly green eyes and looked up at Peter, he could hear a voice in his head, high and cold. He remembered all too clearly the words it had spoken, words that repulsed him even as they drew him in.

_I have suspicions about this boy. _

Suspicions—they didn't have to be true, maybe they wouldn't, maybe they would all be left alone and safe…

_I want you to tell me everything you know about him._

Tell him, tell _him_, when the others were ready to lay down their lives for this child...but Peter…

_You will be safe. All you must do is tell me._

Tell him, that was all, and he would be protected...it would be easy….so easy…

But then he looked down again at Harry's face. The baby made a little noise, a questioning coo, his eyes wide and bright. They were his mother's eyes, eyes that in her face were alight with love; and James, James suddenly looked so much older. Suddenly he wasn't reckless, instead he was brave. Real Gryffindor bravery, real courage, real strength…  
All the things Peter would never have, and he knew it.

"He looks so much like you," said Peter, pasting on a smile. "He'll have a wonderful world to grow up in."

_Liar. _

But Lily and James smiled, and Sirius and Remus—they were all happy, they didn't know, they probably never would.

Peter swallowed, his face growing sore with the tortured effort to keep smiling, and gently handed Harry back to his father. Lily leaned over and stroked the black fuzz on her son's forehead, pressing a kiss to his baby-soft skin. They looked so happy, so serene, that it almost hurt, just knowing that their world hung in the balance, and sooner or later Peter would have to make a choice. They all would. But the rat inside of him, growing stronger every day, kept calling him to scuttle into the shadows. His friends were all proud Gryffindors, and they would stand and fight, stand and die when the time came. Little Harry would grow up to be the same way. But Peter, scarlet and gold had always been too bold for him. He never wanted to be noticed and it had gotten him noticed in the worst of ways.

He tried to force this to the back of his mind, to let his happiness be more genuine. Harry was an adorable baby and he had never seen James and Lily so happy. Sirius was practically glowing and Remus looked so...alive. Peter smiled, he tried to join in their excitement, but he knew that behind the smile he was crumbling. They would never know until it was too late, know as Peter knew, even though he hadn't been told, and it felt like a lump of ice in his stomach, that this boy who slept so peacefully in his father's arms was doomed.

He Who Must Not Be Named—and why not, why not, because everyone was scared, scared like Peter, cowardly Peter—wanted him to die.

Wanted them all to die.  
And if _he_ wanted you to die…  
You died.  
Or you obeyed.


	5. Ready or Not

**A/N: Jily fluff! Yay!  
Once again, PLEASE FOR THE LOVE OF MERLIN REVIEW. Thanks!**

When Lily woke up, she felt sure for a second that something was wrong. Something was not right with the world. She sat bolt upright and looked around in panic before her eyes found the dark-shrouded shape of the crib in the corner and the memories of hours of pain and blinding joy flooded her mind. Then she remembered. There was nothing wrong. In fact, she realized, she had never known what joy truly was before. She slipped out of bed, still adjusting to the change in the weight her legs had to carry, and knelt next to her sleeping son. _Her son_.

The idea was mind-boggling, that this new, tiny living thing should just suddenly…_exist_. And that he should be hers—_theirs._ It was like something just past the edge of reality. Something that was too incredible and fragile and complex to exist.

"_Lumos_ _Minima,"_ Lily whispered. A soft glow illuminated the tip of her wand and shone on baby Harry's tiny, round face. She gently stroked his soft little head with its fuzz of black hair, already so like his father's. So far, he slept peacefully, like her, but goodness knows that could change.

"Are you going to grow up and get in lots of trouble?" Lily whispered fondly. "Your daddy would be so proud."

She was not in the least disappointed that his reply was to continue sleeping in silence. There were so many possibilities before him that he couldn't even dream of; she couldn't wait to see what kind of person he would become.

"Right now you can be a mama's boy," she continued, the words barely more than a breath.

"You can be quiet and polite and well-behaved and make everyone love you, although I suppose they do already." She pressed a kiss to his forehead. "I know I do."

And she did—it had never been more clear—she wanted to protect this tiny piece of her body and her heart more than she had ever wanted anything. This little person, this perfect fusion of her and the love of her life—he was borne of her flesh and of her pain. And she knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that she would sacrifice that flesh and relive that pain countless times over to protect him.

"Everything okay, Lils?" whispered a voice at her shoulder. Lily turned to see her husband standing behind her and smiled. In the soft glow of her wand, she could just make out his hazel eyes, blinking blearily behind his glasses, and the head of tousled black hair whose messiness she now found endearing.

"Everything is amazing," she said, standing up and leaning against his chest. He wrapped his arms around her and she sank back against him, closing her eyes.

"What did we do to earn this?" she sighed.

"Well, I have a very beautiful wife, who has—er—many talents…" James began. She could almost hear his Marauder smirk.

Lily opened her eyes to tilt her head back and glare at him. "James Potter."

James chuckled softly. "I'm still twenty, you can only expect so much maturity." He paused and sank onto the bed behind him. "Merlin, we're _twenty_. What are we doing, Lils? What do we know about being parents?"

Lily pressed her lips together. She wasn't going to pretend she hadn't had the same thought. But she turned around to face James and sat down beside him. "As much as we can," she said softly. "Only experience can teach the rest. I'm scared too, James. I've wondered if we're crazy. But we have to believe we're not."

"I just want to do the right thing," James sighed.

"I never thought I'd hear you say that," Lily teased, sliding closer to him and resting her head on his shoulder.

"Sirius will be ashamed of me—all mature and responsible," James laughed softly, wrapping an arm around Lily's back.

"I've been waiting for that to happen for years," Lily whispered with a smile.

"Am I still an arrogant toerag?" James asked teasingly.

"I suppose not," Lily replied with mock reluctance, pressing a quick kiss to his lips. "In fact, I think you'll be a great father."

"You've never been one to overestimate me," James admitted. He sighed. "I just want to protect him."

"So do I," Lily said, "And if it comes to that, I will. We will."

James took a deep breath and smiled faintly. "And I guess we've always got the others for backup."

"Finally," Lily said, nestling against him, "A benefit of getting four for the price of one."

"I'm your favorite, though, aren't I?" James asked with a grin.

"That's not a fair question when I just spent hours of pain giving birth to your child," Lily retorted jokingly. "I was really the most fond of Remus for a few years…"

James gave her a skeptical half-smile. "Too late to back out now, Lils, sorry."

Lily laced their fingers together and closed her eyes. "I suppose I don't mind."

"We really have to work together now," James said, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. Then he grinned. "But we should get our beauty sleep while we still can."

"I suppose it's an empty wish that he'll keep sleeping like this," Lily sighed. She sank back against her pillow and James did so beside her.

"'Night, Lily-flower," he said, giving her a gentle kiss. In the direction of Harry's crib, he added, "Sleep well, Heir to our Glory."

"_James._"


	6. A Future to Fight For

**A/N: Bit of a break, but I'm back! Here is your first action scene; I'd love to hear what you think since action isn't as much my "thing" as angst and fluff. But, hey, *HINT* that's what reviews are for! *winks dramatically***

A brilliant flash of green light nearly skimmed Remus' left ear.

Somewhere in the background, Sirius cursed.

Remus rolled his eyes and flicked his wand, casting a shield spell like a bubble around himself. He held his wand out, tensed, waiting for cracks in the barrier to appear. He could see the spells bouncing off of it, but it muffled the sound of curses, hexes, and cries of rage that surrounded him.  
Then—_crash!_  
His shield shattered like the thinnest glass. Remus staggered slightly, almost caught off guard, and spun, shooting burning orbs from his wand faster than the spell could fly from his lips.

_Malfoy, Avery, Goyle, Mulciber_—_Merlin, it's like they knew there would only be two of us!_

He ducked and wove between spellfire, causing two of the Death Eaters' spells to hit each other.  
Then Sirius was there, standing next to him, shooting off a haze of blinding spells and barely drawing breath.  
Then he smirked at Remus.

_Oh, no. That never means anything good—_

He barely had time to finish thinking before a curse caught him on the arm. He gritted his teeth and fired back.

"_Anaticula!_" Sirius shouted beside him.

Remus cast a shield in front of them. "What spell—?" he yelled over the sounds of the battle.  
Sirius just kept smirking.

"_AVADA KEDAVRA!" _Avery screamed, enraged.

Remus instinctually dropped to the ground, but by the time he was back on his feet seconds later, he realized that there had been no green light. Instead, a duck was waddling around amidst the chaos.

"Avery, mate, is that a duck?" Sirius cried, barely able to suppress his glee.

"_Not—the—time_," Remus ground out.

Avery roared a stream of swears and hexes.  
Sirius and Remus ducked, rolled, and spun to avoid them, but Sirius was still hit on the side with some sort of nasty curse. He stumbled, breathing purple smoke, and placed a hand to his side, swearing vindictively under his breath.

"Save your breath for spells," Remus hissed. "It'll get us out of here faster."

Sirius grabbed him and threw them both to the ground behind a rock as a beam of light whizzed over their heads.

"Goyle's down," he panted, pressing a hand to his side and still breathing purple smoke.

"Avery's more or less out of commission until that spell wears off. That just leaves Mulciber—not the worst—and my slimy cousin-in-law."

"Right," Remus muttered. His arm still stung. "We'll take them better together at this point. Start with Mulciber."  
They both leaned sideways, narrowly missing a sinister-looking jinx.

"Count of three," Remus whispered. "One...two.."

"THREE!" Sirius yelled, jumping out from behind the rock and barely covering a wince. Mulciber was easy to identify as the taller and broader of the two. His mask didn't hide a cruel smirk.

"Seems as though you like a bit of slicing, Lupin," he taunted.

Remus had no idea what spell it was, but it hit his outstretched wand hand before he could react, carving three gashes into his skin that immediately welled with blood. He gave a hiss of pain through his teeth but retained his grip on his wand, slashing back with the first hex that came to mind. Mulciber staggered but didn't fall.

"That pretty face could use a bit of carving, traitor Black," he continued musingly.

Sirius shot a stream of hexes and jinxes with at the Death Eater before he'd even raised his wand.

"You good?" he muttered over his shoulder.

Remus shrugged, joining him in the attack. In truth, none of the healing spells he knew had worked, but, then, that was common with magical wounds.

"Two against one? Hardly fair, I'd say," said a delicate voice that dripped like oil. It seemed Malfoy had come to act as backup.

"So you've finally come to fight, princess," Sirius growled. "_Stupe—"_

"_Protego!"_

Remus shot off a number of his favorite jinxes, but few seemed to find their mark. With Malfoy defending and Mulciber attacking, he could tell that he and Sirius, both injured, were losing.

"Come on, Padfoot," he muttered. There wasn't anything to say at this point; all they could do was act.

As if they had all had the same thought, all at once, the battlefield exploded in a myriad of spells. They were flying back and forth, coming from every direction, glancing off of shields when they were put up in time; the combatants ducked, rolled, and spun in a bizarre, death-defying sort of dance. Nobody was missed entirely. There were seconds of hope and minutes of blinding pain.

Then the barrage of magic started to slow. The shields were getting sloppy. A red spell made its way past Malfoy's, and suddenly Mulciber was on the ground. Then it was just Sirius and Remus, fighting together, fighting with strength they didn't have, because what else was left? When the last shield faded—when Malfoy turned on the spot in a whirl of blonde hair and black smoke and Disapparated—only then did they look at each other.

"We won."

"This time."

Remus' hand was almost too sore to grip his wand, which was becoming slippery with blood. His arm burned. They were both shaking, not quite standing upright; Sirius was gasping for breath, the clouds of purple smoke coming erratically. But they'd won. They were bruised and battered. But they'd won.

Now they had more than ideals to fight for. Now they had Harry. And he was the future they all wanted to create.

"Let's go back and get cleaned up, yeah?" Sirius said quietly. "We need to report the news—let James and Lily know we're fine—"

Remus frowned slightly. "Yeah. But—I might not be there—at there house, I mean—er, today."

Sirius glanced at him. "Why?"

"I—things to do," Remus said stiffly. Before Sirius could argue, Remus grabbed his arm.  
"Let's go."

Then they vanished, leaving an empty, charred battlefield behind.


	7. An Excuse to Celebrate

**A/N: Some more happiness, some more sadness...you know how it goes. Summary of this chapter: Remus needs a hug. Review and let me know what you'd like to see next! :D**

"Lily's insisting on celebrating one month," said James' head in the flickering, emerald flames of Sirius' fireplace. "I don't know if that's really a birthday, but it'll be nice to have something to celebrate, yeah?"

"Yeah," said Remus, grinning weakly.

"I'm letting her plan it...Lily wants what she wants, you know, but I don't mind. You'll both be there, right?"

"Of course!" Sirius said, beaming. "Like I'd miss any excuse to celebrate my godson."

'Godson'. Just saying it made it impossible to suppress a glow of pride. He couldn't believe how fast and yet how slow Harry was growing; he hadn't begun to do much of anything yet but he looked more like James every day.

"Most likely," Remus answered, rubbing a hand across his shoulder.

"You're not avoiding us, are you, Moony?" James joked.

Remus shook his head quickly. "Of course not. I just—I want to see how—"

He gave a slightly forced grin. "Yeah, I'll be there."

"Great!" James beamed. Sirius could hear a baby fussing in the background. "See you—Lils says she doesn't mind if you lot drop in."

"At a _reasonable _hour," Lily interjected behind him. "Which is mostly directed to Sirius."

Sirius acted mock-offended and Remus gave a small laugh as James waved from the fireplace and vanished.

Sirius glanced over at Remus. "You all right, mate?"

"Yeah," Remus answered quickly.

Then something clicked in Sirius' brain. How had he forgotten? Remus' tired eyes and ashen skin should have clued him in sooner, but he'd been so excited about Harry…

"It's tonight, isn't it?" he asked.

Remus smiled thinly. Against the sickly pallor of his face, his scars seemed to stand out more. "I understand. I'm as excited about Harry as the rest of you, but I—I want it to be able to be about him."

"Come off it, we've spent nearly a month with our lives centered around Harry. We didn't spend seven years with you for nothing—I haven't forgotten how it is for you."

Remus pulled himself to his feet and leaned against the wall. "I just don't want any of you to have to worry about me."

"Lily knew that when she married Prongs she got us too. _All _of us. It'll be a few days after, anyway. You should come."

Remus' smile didn't quite reach his eyes. He looked so..._old. _Old and tired. "Maybe."

"Look, I'll tell Prongs, just in case he's forgotten. Wormtail's got some important mission to do, but we'll be there. We're not letting you do this alone. You know we never would."

Remus sighed. "I do, but...James is a new father. I'm sure the last thing he'll want to do is stay up all night chasing me around."

"Moony." Sirius put his hands on Remus' shoulders. "If nothing else, I'll be there. But you won't be alone. And you will come to the party. Just because you don't seem to enjoy your own company doesn't mean we won't."

Remus smiled faintly. Sirius wondered at the invisible weight that always seemed to sit on his shoulders. Remus wasn't even the oldest out of the four of them, but he'd been forced to act like an adult since he was eleven years old, to handle something that no one should have to, and he insisted on doing so much of it alone. He was barely twenty and there were streaks of gray at his temples. When had that happened?

But it wasn't just him. James was twenty and a father. His eyes, too, seemed older, too old for his youthful face, especially when he looked at his son. Peter never seemed to be around, but when he was, he was always afraid, always looking over his shoulder for something that was never there. And Sirius...what about him? He had his own place, sure, but then what? He didn't know if he should believe anymore that they had forever, if he should cling to it for a shred of hope or let it be stolen by reality. Even if they survived the war, it would age them all beyond their years.

oo00oo

Lily bounced Harry in her arms, smiling adoringly into his sweet, round face. Her own eyes looked back at her, yet they were not hers—these were eyes bright with innocence and joy, eyes not yet scarred by the sights of a war. She hoped they would stay that way, forever if she could help it.

She glanced over to the couch. James and Sirius sat in front of it, bottles of Butterbeer in hand, laughing together. In the armchair beside her sat Remus, slightly pulled back from the group, the firelight casting wavering shadows on his ashen face and tired smile. The bandages wrapped around his left hand took on a reddish tint in the glow of the fire.

"You want to hold him?"

Lily nodded to Harry in her arms, who gave a questioning coo.

Remus glanced at her and shook his head, though his eyes were fixed on the baby. "No—I'm still—well, no thank you." He smiled sadly. "He looks happy where he is."

"He's always so happy," Lily said with a smile, admiring her son. "I know babies aren't usually, especially so young, but he's not fussy at all. Are you sure? You know I trust you not to hurt him—maybe more than his godfather. I told Sirius he can't go on the bike until he's at least a year old, and that's _with_ a responsible adult."

"I'm a responsible adult," Sirius protested.

"Both of those are questionable," said Remus, a ghost of his usual dry humor returning. "And yes, Lily, I'm sure."

Lily sighed. "I wish you wouldn't be so hard on yourself. We don't mind taking things slower if you need to, but we want you to enjoy yourself. We all want you here with us."

Harry stretched his chubby little hands towards Remus, his eyes wide with fascination.

Lily smiled fondly. "And someone over here _really_ wants his Uncle Moony."

Remus' smile grew to something more genuine. "Well—" he hesitated. "All right."

Lily beamed. James and Sirius went silent from the couch as she gently lowered Harry into Remus' arms. The black-haired baby looked up at the man who might as well have been his third father, then curled against his chest with a contented little gurgle.

Remus couldn't help but smile.

"You're always warmer than the rest of us," Sirius complained. "Now you're going to be his favorite."

Lily laughed. "He's already _my _favorite," she said, winking at James.

James gave an insulted gasp. "Moony! You're stealing my whole family now!"

Lily crossed her arms firmly, though she couldn't miss the pride in his face when he referenced his family. "Sirius steals my hairbrush, husband, sofa, and occasionally my child on a regular basis, and yet you only complain when I've finally gotten Remus to hold your son and Harry likes him."

James shrugged. Sirius tossed his hair dramatically. "Lily Evans/Potter, when you married James, you got all of us. Shouldn't I expect some rewards for such an amazing four-for-one deal?"

"I don't consider it a deal," Lily said, imitating the way he tossed his long hair. "It's like having an extra child to take care of."

Remus shifted Harry's weight in his arms and avoided her eyes.

"I mean Sirius, and you know it," Lily said. "He's a pet at best and a child at worst."

"I'm an excellent pet," Sirius protested.

"You shed," James said. "I should know."

Remus smirked and looked into Harry's small, round face. Oblivious to the conversation around him, Harry was simply smiling and gurgling happily. If only the rest of them could remember what it was like to find joy in the simple act of living.


	8. The Family We Choose

**A/N: Hi, guys! I'm back with another chapter! As the story moves along, I'd love to hear what you want to see next. I can't promise to include everything, but if you've got ideas or comment, review so your voice can be heard!**

Maybe there was something in the signature that made it too true. Maybe there was something in the shakiness of the signer's hand, or the barely-dried tearstains that Lily was helplessly adding to.

James was in the kitchen, trying to feed Harry. Much as she didn't want to interrupt, there was nothing she needed more than his strong arms, something to make her forget the letter. She stumbled into the kitchen, numbly folding it into the smallest possible square, drawing perfect creases without a single thought.

"James?" she said. Her voice shook and shattered.

James looked up from Harry's grubby face, his own expression turning to a mask of worry when he saw the tearstains on his wife's face.

"Lils," he said, crossing the kitchen in a few easy strides. "What is it? What happened?"

"My parents," Lily choked out. "It was a car crash—nobody ever even—"

Unable to do anything else, she buried her face in his chest and dissolved into tears.

"They only met Harry once," she whispered. "And yours—dragon pox—"

"I know," James said softly. "I know how it feels. Oh, Lily-flower, I'm so sorry."

"I'm getting your shirt all wet," she sniffed.

James laughed. "Harry's done worse to pretty much all of the clothing I own, and I don't love him any less for it."

Lily tried for a laugh, but it came out watery and broken. "I just—with this war—there were so many others I was prepared to lose. We have friends who are out fighting every day, and all of us know the risks. But my parents—they're Muggles...I...I thought they were safe."

James pressed a kiss to the crown of her head and held her still closer. "I know," he said softly. "I did too. But I guess we really don't know. We have to hold on to what we've got."

Lily dragged her hand across her eyes as her tears slowed. "I hope this never has to happen to Harry," she said softly. "I'll protect him with everything I have."

"So will I," said James, "and so will the people we trust. You know that."

He crossed the kitchen to Harry, scooped him up, and brought him back to his mother. Lily took him in her arms and dropped a gentle kiss on his forehead.

"You're a very lucky little boy, Harry," she said softly. "You're so, so loved."

James, standing behind her, slid his arms around her waist. "And that will never change."

oo00oo

Petunia was ignoring her.

Stiff and bony in her drab black dress, she stood on the opposite side of the room from Lily, clinging to her massive husband's arm. Lily pressed herself closer to James when she realized that there was a baby with them too, just as beefy as his father and as blonde as his mother, a baby she'd never heard about. She had sent Petunia a letter when Harry was born, but perhaps she'd never read it.

As the mourners milled around, sharing condolences and memories, Lily handed Harry to James and pushed her way across the crowd to her sister.

"Petunia!"

Petunia did her best to ignore her sister, but she finally turned and asked coldly, "What do you want?"

What did she want? To grieve with her sister? To try again? To bond over their loss? To be the only family they each had left?

"I wanted to talk to you," Lily said quietly.

"Make it quick."

"You've has a baby," she ventured, lying, "he's adorable. Why didn't you tell me?"

"Why would I?" Petunia asked stiffly.

"I—I'm your _sister_."

"Hardly." Petunia clutched her handbag imperceptibly more tightly. "Where's that layabout husband of yours? You haven't gotten some sense and left him, have you?"

Lily took a deep breath to calm herself. "No, he's here with Harry," she said. "Petunia, I know we've had our differences, but we just lost our parents. We're the only family we have left. Can't we try to make things right? Please, Tuney."

"Don't call me that," snapped Petunia, her tone frigid. "And I suggest you stick with the family you've made for yourself, since you seem to think it's so much better than the one you've got. Vernon," she said sharply, tapping her husband's shoulder, "you've got that meeting. Let's go."

Tears pooled in Lily's green eyes as Petunia Dursley stalked out of the building. Evans and Evans has become Potter and Dursley; though their names had changed only recently, they had stopped being family years ago.

"Lils?"

James was at her shoulder, cradling Harry in his arms. "Are you okay?"

"I wish I could lie to you," Lily said softly, gently lifting Harry from his father's strong embrace. "I thought Petunia was my only remaining family, but I really lost her years ago."

James slid an arm around her waist and lifted her chin so their eyes met. "You've got us," he said. He placed a gentle kiss on her lips and Lily leaned against his shoulder, watching the black-clad crowd of mourners slowly wander from the hall.

Harry had never been so quiet for so long.


	9. Back Into Battle

The glittering orb of red light was reflected in Harry's wide, shining pupils as he batted at it with his small, pudgy hands and gave a coo of delight.

Sirius raised his wand a fraction, allowing the orb to drift out of the toddler's grasp. "I can't make it so easy for you," he chided gently. "Not if you're going to play Quidditch like your dad wants. On your left! And—oh! Gotcha!"

Harry only held the small ball of light for a moment before it vanished. He blinked up at Sirius curiously.

Lily, leaning against the doorway, watched this with a smile. "You're training him already?" she said, stepping around her son to set her steaming mug of tea down on the table.

"Of course," said James from the couch. "It's never too early."

"He's five months old!" Lily laughed, pushing their ginger cat to the side and seating herself beside her husband. "I doubt you're going to teach him much."

"Ba," Harry said stubbornly, leaning against Sirius' leg. He had been working hard at the art of sitting up on his own and was bound and determined to master it any time now.

"Look at that!" Sirius marveled, scooping Harry into his lap. "He's inventing his own language! Yeah, mate, who needs English anyway?" He offered Harry his finger, which the little boy promptly wrapped his tiny hands around.

"I, for one," said Lily, taking a sip of tea, "would like to understand him at some point." A smile played around her lips as she spoke.

"Nah," said Sirius, playing a mock game of tug-of-war to try and get his finger back. He grinned at Harry. "I understand you."

"Sirius Black," Lily said mock-sharply, setting her mug down on the coffee table, "I am not going to let you permanently steal my child. You practically live here as it is."

James shrugged. "That's fine with me," he said with a wink.

Sirius winked back.

Lily groaned. "And now you've stolen my husband. Honestly, Sirius."

"What?" Sirius demanded, looking insulted. "You stole him from _me_."

"Hey, now, there's no need to fight over me," James said placatingly. He wrapped his arm around Lily and twirled a few loose strands of red hair around his fingers. "There's plenty to go around."

The cat raised its face to James hopefully.

"No," he said firmly. "I fed you this morning, Elvendork."

"That's _not _his _name_," Lily said exasperatedly, crossing her arms. "His name is _Leo_."

Sirius pulled Harry closer to his chest and cast a mistrustful look at the cat. "His name is The Holy Terror, as far as I'm concerned."

Elvendork/Leo/Holy Terror suddenly looked up and hissed. Sirius growled back at him. Harry giggled.

"Oh, that's our owl," Lily said impatiently. She jumped to her feet and opened one of the windows. "He always does that—Thea!"

A rather majestic-looking grey-feathered owl swooped in through the opening, a creamy envelope clutched in her talons. She dropped it in James' lap with a self-satisfied squawk, then fluttered over to perch on the windowsill.

James picked up the letter and slid his finger under the envelope's seam to open it.

"Look at you, you pureblood gentleman," Sirius joked from the floor. He scooped up Harry, who gave a squeal of joy, and held him up in the air. "You had better not learn prissy habits from your dad, or I'll have to un-teach you."

"Padfoot." James held up a hand, his expression growing serious. "We're called for a raid."

Sirius set Harry down in his lap and looked up sharply. "What? When?"

"More or less now," said James, his eyes still scanning the letter. He adjusted his glasses and kept reading. "We're to meet at the southeast safe house—Wormtail is s'posed to be there too. He'll be meeting us there." He looked up at Lily. "I guess the Order doesn't do as much as we'd like for paternity leave." He gave her half a smile. "Hold down the fort?"

"You know I will," said Lily, accepting Harry from Sirius, who had gotten to his feet. "I'll have my wand by my side the whole time you're gone."

"I know you will," said James. He pressed a quick kiss to her lips, and then one to Harry's forehead. "Protect her," he said gently.

"Ready?" said Sirius.

"As ever," James answered, stepping up beside him. Together, they turned on the spot and vanished.

"Right," said James, a determined set to his gaze. "Now we're to find Wormtail, then take the Portkey to meet up with Frank and Alice. No idea how many Death Eaters might meet us, it seems."

"Alice is back already?" Sirius grinned. "Typical unstoppable Longbottoms. Their Neville is about Harry's age, yeah?"

James nodded. "From what I've heard. Come on, let's make this quick."

He pushed open the door of the old house, Sirius following. The place certainly didn't look like much; the door swung on creaking hinges, and the hallway was narrow and dusty. Dim light filtered into the space from overhead, illuminating the dust that swirled in the air. However, the hall widened into a circular, wood-paneled room, where Peter sat nervously on the edge of an overstuffed armchair.

He jumped up with a start when he spotted them. "Ah!" he said quickly. "Good, you're here. Well, er...shall we?"

"Merlin, Wormtail," Sirius said, rolling his eyes, "we aren't the ones you've got to be scared of. The raid hasn't even started yet."

"Of course," Peter said with a shaky laugh. "Just—it's a bit odd being here alone, you know. With all the dust and shadows and such." He cleared his throat and tugged on his left sleeve. That had become a habit of his lately—Sirius was apt to wonder if the oversized clothes Peter had started wearing made him feel safe, in a way.

"Well, the Portkey leaves in two minutes—near sharp—so we'd better get ourselves in place," said James. He looked up at the doorways leading from the main room. "The letter said it's the broken teapot on the end table in the hall. Looks to be this way."

As Sirius followed, he marvelled at the change in his friend. Gone was the terrified young father, lacking experience, lacking maturity. Gone, too, was the fresh Hogwarts graduate, eighteen going on thirty (in his mind), joining the Order, brimming with ideals and overzealous courage. Now he was mature, he was in charge; he knew how to lead his family and his little army of friends.

But what if Sirius, still out on his bike, still chasing girls, still wanting to savor his youth while he had it—what if he got left behind?

Remus had always seemed old beyond his years (and even now, Sirius couldn't help but notice the subtle streaks of gray that were coming twenty years too early), aged by responsibility and pain he should never have been forced to bear. Peter...well, Peter was a bit of a tagalong, maybe even a wild card; sure, he could be slow, but he had the best ideas, once in a while. But James? James was Sirius' partner in crime, his brother by something more than birth, the first one to get on board with his craziest ideas and the last to give up on him. What if this new, capable, responsible James, with a family of his own to care for, moved on from the family he'd chosen?

"Padfoot, where are you?" James snapped his fingers in front of Sirius' face. "You stopped walking." A frown appeared between his hazel eyes. "It's not like you to get in your own head. What's up?"

Sirius shook his head, halfway hoping to clear it. "Nothing," he said. "Just—getting myself ready."

James raised his eyebrows but didn't comment. "It should be right down here," he said, turning back towards the hall.

"Lumos," Peter muttered. His wand-tip burst into light. Among the shadows that it cast was the shadow of a proud smile on his face.

"Nice thinking, Wormtail," James said appreciatively. "Ah, there it is." He looked up with a grin. "Well, gather 'round, everyone."

James, Sirius, and Peter clustered around the broken, dust-coated teapot and placed their hands on it. James checked his watch. "All right, gentlemen," he directed with a hint of a grin. "Half a minute to go. Well, we're just on time—Marauder style." He nodded to Peter. "I'd have your wand drawn if I were you."

"Right," Peter said quickly, slipping his wand into his hand. He gave the others a nervous smile. "Ready."

"As always," Sirius said, slipping back into the laid-back confidence that fit him much more comfortably, even if it was less genuine. This wasn't the time to be stewing in his worries. And besides, like James had said, it wasn't like him.

James held up the hand that gripped his wand, counting down on his fingers. "Three...two...one."

Then came the familiar tug, and the trio (and the teapot) disappeared.


End file.
